TWENTY THREE
A LONG dreary New York night, D’Andre Walker fidgeted in his hospital bed. His automatic blood-pressure monitor inflated and deflated softly on his biceps. He felt bed sore, spending most of his days lying around waiting for it to be over.
Flapping shadows flickered in the orange halogen lights outside his sixth-floor window. Massive wings spread in the moonlight.
Dragomir himself climbed in through the window and entered the tiny hospital room.
It seemed like a numb nightmare, just a faraway dream. D'Andre tried to open his drugged eyes, but it didn't seem real enough to bother about anyway.
Dragomir stepped up to the light switch and flicked it on, changing everything.
D'Andre flickered to consciousness.
Dragomir’s glowing red eyes peered down on him. His clawed repti
